


not-reflection

by sapphee



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Drabble, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphee/pseuds/sapphee
Summary: When Larissa saw her the first time, she doesn’t know. All she’s sure of is that it’s been two months of crashing at the Haus because of her “team manager privileges,” and the person in the reflection? Not her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> uploading some drabbles from my sideblog (omgcphee). please reblog [here](http://omgcphee.tumblr.com/post/156657302959/when-larissa-saw-her-the-first-time-she-doesnt)!

When Larissa saw her the first time, she doesn’t know. All she’s sure of is that it’s been two months of crashing at the Haus because of her “team manager privileges,” and the person in the reflection? Not her.

She’s always been fairly simple with her hair, which just sits on her shoulders; the girl in the reflection has long, dramatic waves. Shiny black in a way Larissa envies.

Larissa doesn’t look at her reflection often. This only becomes truer the more time she spends at the Haus, tagging along to watch Ransom and Holster’s latest tasks in getting dibs.

But sometimes, she’ll see an eye or a cheek in a windowpane or a spoon or in the corner of a mirror. Sometimes, she sees a whole face and torso. Sometimes, she thinks her reflection–or whoever she is–waves.

The day she notices she and her “reflection” have the same beauty mark in the same spot on the clavicle, but not the scar above her left eyelid from that time she fell out of a tree after her mom’s loud yell spooked her–well. She’s going to be studying abroad, anyway. Nothing to be done.

—

Nobody notices how she goes out of her way to avoid her reflection when she returns.

—

She has no good reason to decline Shitty’s dibs. It doesn’t even sound good to herself.

—

Her not-reflection smiles and waves to her the first time she goes into her and Chowder’s bathroom. Larissa knows it’s not her reflection looking back at her because Larissa stopped waving to her reflection when she was eight and because Larissa’s been growing out the chop–her not-reflection looks the same as always.

Long, wavy hair in a sleek ponytail, hoop earrings, white, loose top.

Larissa waves back, heart pounding. Her not-reflection presses her body(?) closer to the glass.

Larissa runs.

—

She now has evidence independent of Ransom that ghosts exist and that at least one exists in the Haus.

—

She’s in the library looking for an art book when she gets the idea to go into the archives. The yearbooks, to be precise. There, she pores over them, using what she knows about the Haus’ history to narrow down what she needs to find, even though she doesn’t know what that is yet.

The sun has set, and she’s missed dinner, when she starts shaking for no reason. This yearbook in particular has been rife with sentimental messages that start with “I wish we had more time together” more often than not; she’s close. The answer is on the next page.

When she gets there, she skims the words first, ignoring the happy and weathered family photo. “Local Boston girl.” “Bright future.” “Survived by her immigrant parents.”

Then, there’s nothing left but to look at what she knows she’s going to see.

_In Loving Memory of Jenny Duan._

She’s not sure what to do with that.


End file.
